Chapter 16: Chained by Memories

Chapter 16: Chapter 16: Chained by Memories I pulled into the driveway just as the sun set, casting long shadows over the house that once felt like a safe place before everything changed. My hands gripped the steering wheel for a few seconds, trying to steady the storm in my chest. My heartbeat was loud in my ears, but I refused to let it shake me. Not today. When I stepped inside, the air felt different. Still and tense. I didn’t need to call out. He was already there, sitting in the living room like he’d been waiting for this moment. My father. He looked up when I entered, his eyes lingering on my face just a second too long before shifting away, like he always did lately. That same guilt was there, swimming in his gaze, but it wasn’t enough. Not after what he did. "Why?" My voice came out low, tight with restrained anger. "Just tell me why you did it." He didn’t speak immediately. "He didn’t even ask what I meant. He just sat there, silent as if he already knew I’d uncovered the truth. "Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his fingers laced together, pretending to be calm. But I saw the flicker in his jaw, the tightening of his shoulders. "I did it to protect you," he said finally, as if that excuse could make sense of the mess he caused. "Protect me?" I laughed bitterly. "By paying off the man I loved to walk away from me? By making me feel like a fool in front of everyone? That’s your idea of protection?" "Be glad I only paid him off," he said, his voice sharp like a slap. "The man you love, Evric? I didn’t raise you to fall for another man. You’re a man. You should love a woman. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? Ashamed to stand here and call another man the one you love?" He stood then, slow and deliberate. "You think he loved you? Do you think he wouldn’t have left eventually? At least this way, you saw him for what he truly is before he destroyed you." My chest burned. "That wasn’t your choice to make! You don’t get to control who I love who I give my heart to!" "I do when I see that man using you," he snapped, his voice rising. "I do when I see you losing yourself in someone who only wants what you can give him. Money, access, and power. "If not," he scoffed, "then how could a man possibly love another man? Unless he sees something to gain from you. Use your head. No man gives love freely to another man. There’s always a price." "You don’t know that," I shot back. "And even if that were true, I still deserved the chance to find out on my own." He exhaled sharply, turning his back to me, running a hand over his head. "You don’t understand the things I’ve had to do to protect this family, to protect you." "I didn’t ask you to protect me like that," I whispered. "I needed you to trust me." "This person means so much to me, Dad," I said, my voice trembling with the weight of everything I’d bottled up. "I could’ve died in that accident." He didn’t flinch. Didn’t soften. "Then it’s a good thing you survived it," he replied coldly, as if my pain meant nothing. Then I told him. Do you think separating me from Nicki would change who I am? I stood up, my voice steady, but my hands clenched. "Joke’s on you, Dad, because even after this, I’ll still choose another man. So you better get your money ready, start counting it, because you’ll have a lot more to pay off." He turned to face me again, and for the first time, I saw something close to regret in his eyes. "Maybe you don’t get it now," he said quietly. "But everything I’ve ever done was to make sure you never had to learn things the hard way." "Well," I said, swallowing the lump in my throat, "you failed. Because I learned the hardest way possible by watching the man I loved, take your money and leave me without a second thought." He looked away again. That guilt on his face didn’t satisfy me. It didn’t fix anything. But it confirmed one thing: He knew he’d gone too far. "I’ll never be the same after this," I said softly. "But maybe that’s a good thing. Because now I know who you are. And who I need to be." I didn’t wait for a reply. I turned around, walked out the front door, and for the first time in days, I didn’t look back. I didn’t return to school after that confrontation with my father. I didn’t go home either. Instead, I went straight to a bar. Drink after drink, I drowned myself in bitterness until I found a man willing to follow me home. He was handsome. Confident. The kind of guy anyone would want. But when he leaned in to kiss me, when his hands ran down my body, I felt nothing. No heat. No spark. No, Nicki. My body just sat there like a ghost was wearing my skin. I tried to make it work and forced myself to respond, but I couldn’t even get hard. I told myself it was just the alcohol. Or maybe just one bad night. So I tried again another day. And again. Different men. Different bars. But the result was the same. I couldn’t feel anything. Eventually, I stopped trying to sleep with them. I’d bring them home, but leave them on the couch. Some left on their own. Others complained. I didn’t care. I’d just sit there, alone, with my thoughts. And in that silence, I realized something: Something inside me had changed. Or maybe it had broken. I didn’t want anyone anymore. Not their bodies. Not their lips. Not their touches. No one felt like him. No one could be him. So, instead, I’d lie in bed and pretend. I’d use my voice, imagining I was with Nicki. Like when we used to have sex calls late at night. Whispering things, laughing between moans, touching ourselves over the phone. I held on to that. Because it was the only way I could feel something again. I tried to start new relationships, but they collapsed before they could even begin. I couldn’t connect. I couldn’t stay. I’d pull away whenever someone tried to get close. I started asking myself: What’s harder, losing Nicki or refusing to forget him? Months passed. I still couldn’t sleep with anyone. Couldn’t even kiss without pulling away. One night, I almost texted him. Almost told him to come over, that I’d pay him if that’s what he wanted, since money always lured him. But I didn’t send it. Because I still loved him. And loving him meant I couldn’t reduce him to a transaction. I couldn’t make him into something he wasn’t. Real love isn’t something you pay for. Then, one night, I went clubbing again drunk out of my mind. I barely remember anything after lifting the glass to my lips. The next thing I opened my eyes, I was lying in my bed. Not my apartment. I was waking up back at my father’s house. I thought maybe he brought me home to yell or to pretend he cared. But no. He locked me in. I tried to get out. I couldn’t. The door was locked. I was trapped. I thought it was for a day. But days turned to weeks. The maid brought me food. My mom came in quietly, sometimes just sitting beside me without speaking. Chrisly came, too... just to annoy me as usual. But I barely reacted. Then, finally, my father returned from a business trip. He walked in like nothing had happened, sat across from me, and said, "I’ve arranged your transfer. You’ll continue your studies abroad." I didn’t argue. Not anymore. I didn’t have the strength. I just looked at him and asked, "When?" "In two weeks," he said. I didn’t even flinch. In two weeks, it sounded like forever and nothing at the same time. I only nodded once. "Then... I have one request," I said softly. He raised an eyebrow. "What?" "Let me out. Just once. I want to see Nicki." I looked him in the eyes. "That’ll be the last time. I swear." He said nothing. Turned and left. One day passed. He didn’t return. Two days. Still no answer. By the third day, I begged. I didn’t want much. I wasn’t trying to start a fight. I just needed closure. Or maybe a goodbye. But he still wouldn’t give it to me. After a week had passed, he brought me documents and information about the school, the city, and the program. Stuff that meant nothing to me. I didn’t even look at it. I asked again, softer this time. "Please. Just let me see him." Silence. He left still nothing. So I stopped eating. There were only three days left before I was supposed to travel. My father didn’t show up anymore. The maids brought my meals. My things were laid out. But not a single word from him. Not even a no. Just silence. And still... I waited. Hoping for something. A sign. A chance. A door to open. Even if it was just for a minute with Nicki. To be continued....